‘BLOOD and Chocolate” is a werewolf movie that’s a little mixed-up on the legend.

The wolf-people clamber over rooftops (isn’t that a cat thing?), get all lip-licky at the sight of blood (more like Dracula) and shriek in terror at the sight of silver . . . butter knives?

Blond teen Vivian is an orphaned American werewolf in Romania who lives undercover with her aunt. Her wild cousin Rafe (also a werewolf) leers at her as she dodges the clutches of head wolfguy Gabriel, to whom she has been promised because “every seven years the leader of the pack takes a new wife.” Like Donald Trump.

She meets an American comic-book artist, Aiden (Hugh Dancy), who likes to draw wolves and just happens to start chatting about the legend of her people, the “loup-garou.” Before long, the two are sharing a skipping-through-the fountains montage as she tries to simultaneously guard her secret from him and guard him from the jealous Rafe and Gabriel.

This is the kind of werewolf flick that seems to have used up its entire special-effects budget on canine contact lenses. It cheats on the transformation routine: The humans get hit by a shaft of light and, bam, they’re wolves. That’s it. No freaky shapeshifting.

When the special effects aren’t there, about all that’s left is acting and a script. Vivian is played by 21-year-old Agnes Bruckner, who is either the world’s youngest Botox addict or a victim of narcolepsy. As her character is supposed to register love, terror and bravery in the prospect of imminent death, she sets her face to convey nullity, blankness and stupefaction.

As for the script, a wittier director would have spotted the absurd elements and delivered a horror-comedy instead of a straight-faced bore. Rafe always travels with five buddies – except the one time he is likely to need them. The wolves are so weak they can be destroyed by a speck of silver – even traces of silver dust in the air. When a vital antidote is needed, it is conjured forth not by a magic spell or a mystical quest but a trip to the pharmacy.

The dialogue never fails to be dull (“Full of secrets, aren’t you?”) except when it’s trying to be funny, and then it doesn’t even make sense. Rafe threatens Aiden with the prospect of being “buried here. As a ceiling fan or something.” At a moment of heartache someone says, “If you’d have cared a goddamn thing about me, you’d have left me before we even met.” And when Aiden promises to leave town – “I’ll be on the train” – Rafe replies, “I am the train.” So Rafe, are you inviting Aiden to jump on your caboose?